Chocolate Chip Cookie Murder (Hannah Swensen #1)(4)

“Neither do I. And it’s good for him to get out and socialize with his friends.”

“That’s exactly what I told Father Coultas. If God gave Dad Alzheimer’s, He’s got to understand when Dad forgets what church he belongs to.” Lisa walked to the oven, switched off the timer, and pulled out a tray of Chocolate Chip Crunches. “I’ll bring these in as soon as they’re cool.”

“Thanks.” Hannah went back through the swinging door again and unlocked the street door to the coffee shop. She flipped the “Closed” sign in the window to “Open,” and checked the cash register to make sure there was plenty of change. She’d just finished setting out small baskets of sugar packets and artificial sweeteners when a late-model dark green Volvo pulled up in the spot by the front door.

Hannah frowned as the driver’s door opened and her middle sister, Andrea, slid out of the driver’s seat. Andrea looked perfectly gorgeous in a green tweed jacket with politically correct fake fur around the collar. Her blond hair was swept up in a shining knot on the top of her head and she could have stepped from the pages of a glamour magazine. Even though Hannah’s friends insisted that she was pretty enough, just being in the same town with Andrea always made Hannah feel hopelessly frumpy and unsophisticated.

Andrea had married Bill Todd, a Winnetka County deputy sheriff, right after she’d graduated from high school. They had one daughter, Tracey, who had turned four last month. Bill was a good father on his hours away from the sheriff’s station, but Andrea had never been cut out to be a stay-at-home mom. When Tracey was only six months old, Andrea had decided that they’d needed two incomes and she’d gone to work as an agent at Lake Eden Realty.

The bell on the door tinkled and Andrea blew in with a chill blast of autumn wind, hauling Tracey behind her by the hand. “Thank God you’re here, Hannah! I’ve got a property to show and I’m late for my appointment at the Cut ’n Curl.”

“It’s only eight, Andrea.” Hannah boosted Tracey up onto a stool at the counter and went to the refrigerator to get her a glass of milk. “Bertie doesn’t open until nine.”

“I know, but she said she’d come in early for me. I’m showing the old Peterson farm this morning. If I sell it, I can order new carpeting for the master bedroom.”

“The Peterson farm?” Hannah turned to stare at her sister in shock. “Who’d want to buy that old wreck?”

“It’s not a wreck, Hannah. It’s a fixer-upper. And my buyer, Mr. Harris, has the funds to make it into a real showplace.”

“But why?” Hannah was honestly puzzled. The Peterson place had been vacant for twenty years. She’d ridden her bicycle out there as a child and it was just an old two-story farmhouse on several acres of overgrown farmland that adjoined the Cozy Cow Dairy. “Your buyer must be crazy if he wants it. The land’s practically worthless. Old man Peterson tried to farm it for years and the only things he could grow were rocks.”

Andrea straightened the collar of her jacket. “The client knows that, Hannah, and he doesn’t care. He’s only interested in the farmhouse. It’s still structurally sound and it has a nice view of the lake.”

“It’s sitting smack-dab in the middle of a hollow, Andrea. You can only see the lake from the top of the roof. What does your buyer plan to do, climb up on a ladder every time he wants to enjoy the view?”

“Not exactly, but it amounts to the same thing. He told me that he’s going to put on a third story and convert the property to a hobby farm.”

“A hobby farm?”

“That’s a second home in the country for city people who want to be farmers without doing any of the work. He’ll hire a local farmer to take care of his animals and keep up the land.”

“I see,” Hannah said, holding back a grin. By her own definition, Andrea was a hobby wife and a hobby mother. Her sister hired a local woman to come in to clean and cook the meals, and she paid baby-sitters and day-care workers to take care of Tracey.

“You’ll watch Tracey for me, won’t you, Hannah?” Andrea looked anxious. “I know she’s a bother, but it’s only for an hour. Kiddie Korner opens at nine.”

Hannah thought about giving her sister a piece of her mind. She was running a business and her shop wasn’t a day-care center. But one glance at Tracey’s hopeful face changed her mind. “Go ahead, Andrea. Tracey can work for me until it’s time for her to go to preschool.”

“Thanks, Hannah.” Andrea turned and started toward the door. “I knew I could count on you.”

“Can I really work, Aunt Hannah?” Tracey asked in her soft little voice, and Hannah gave her a reassuring smile.

“Yes, you can. I need someone to be my official taster. Lisa just baked a batch of Chocolate Chip Crunches and I need to know if they’re good enough to serve to my customers.”

“Did you say chocolate?” Andrea turned back at the door to frown at Hannah. “Tracey can’t have chocolate. It makes her hyperactive.”

Hannah nodded, but she gave Tracey a conspiratorial wink. “I’ll remember that, Andrea.”

“I’ll see you later, Tracey,” Andrea said and blew her daughter a kiss. “Don’t be any trouble for your aunt Hannah, okay?”